


Playing with Fire

by hogwartsahoy



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angsty Albus, Brotherly Bonding, Canon Compliant, Gen, Harry/Ginny - Freeform, Ron/Hermione - Freeform, and all the bits the play misses out on, angsty Harry, basically what happens on september 1st in cursed child, cute Potter family bonding, let's be real albus is always angsty, september 1st
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26223412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartsahoy/pseuds/hogwartsahoy
Summary: He would show his father that he was a better person than he thought he was. He would be better. He would fix Harry’s mistakes, and he would do it without question.Chronicling the the events of September 1st 2020 and the difficulties Harry and Albus Potter face, both together and apart.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Happy September 1st!
> 
> I really wish I could be spending this momentous September 1st in Melbourne seeing Cursed Child, but the world has sadly disagreed. I wanted to write something special for September 1st instead, and so this came along! I thought it might be fun to set something on the actual day, and to write some scenes from the play as well as some original scenes that I came up with. 
> 
> This fic ended up being way longer than I expected it to be – it's just under 7000 words – but I'm so happy with it. I'm really proud of the whole thing and I hope that it can bring some joy to your September 1st, or just any day on which you may read this. While I can't be at the theatre seeing this show today, I can't wait for the day that I can be back there with my friends. Until then, this will have to do. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this!

Harry woke early on the morning of the 1st of September 2020, though to say he’d slept much at all would be a lie. He wasn’t sure how many hours of sleep he’d ended up getting, though he did know that he’d spent several hours staring up at the ceiling, sleep evading him while Ginny dozed beside him. She’d woken up once and they’d spoken. She’d tried to help him feel better about the argument. And then… his scar. He’d dreamt of the Dursley’s, he’d dreamt of _Voldemort_ again, for the first time in a long time.

It was a night Harry wished he could erase from existence entirely.

First, Amos Diggory showing up at his house unannounced, his niece – a niece he didn’t know Amos even had – and then everything with Albus. Albus… He wasn’t sure what had come over him. What had made him say those things. If he’d ever doubted his ability as a father before, that was nothing to how he felt after what he’d said.

And he’d _tried._ He’d really tried. That was what hurt. In gifting Albus that blanket, the blanket that meant _so much_ to him, he’d had hope. Seeing Albus act as if the blanket was nothing… but it wasn’t Albus’ fault. Albus was always on edge around him. He’d known that for years. And last night just so happened to be the night Harry snapped. That they _both_ snapped. Years had been building up to that moment. He was ashamed of the fact. Hearing those words repeated in his mind. The ones he’d shouted at his own _son._ But more than that, the look on Albus’ face afterwards.

Harry very much doubted he’d ever forget that look.

Ginny, who had woken up long before him, gently knocked on the door before pushing it open. She wandered in, not bothering to turn on the light, and took a seat beside him on their bed. “How are you feeling? Your scar? Lily wants you to come to King’s Cross, if you’re up to it. If you’re not, I’ll send her on in to say goodbye.”

After her realisation last night that his scar had hurt again they’d stayed up talking about it for a while. Harry had somehow done a good enough job at reassuring her since she’d ended up going to sleep again, but she was clearly still worried about it. In some ways, he supposed she was always worried about him.

He pushed himself up into a seated position. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, hasn’t since last night,” he explained. “It was probably just an after-effect of the dream, like I said. I’ll come to King’s Cross. What time is it?”

“A little after eight.”

Harry nodded, rubbed his eyes and swung his legs from the bed. “And Albus?”

“He’s already eaten. James, too. I made them some breakfast. They’re in James’ room, doing a bit of packing. As far as I know, Albus hasn’t gone back into his room. He slept in James’ room.”

“Has he said anything?” Harry asked nervously. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

She shook her head. “No. All I know is that he stayed with James.” She reached out a hand and rested it on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay. You will be, too. You just need some time. And with Albus back at Hogwarts, back with Scorpius, that’ll be good for him. You can try writing to him in a few days, see how he’s going.”

He smiled over at her. “You’re probably right.”

They made their way down to the kitchen together. Lily was sat at the table, a book open in front of her and her own breakfast on the table. Harry set about getting himself some toast, not wanting to bother in cooking something better. He usually went all out with breakfast on September 1st, and he was a little disappointed that he’d let his family down on that this year. Ginny slid into her chair and picked up The Daily Prophet, continuing to read from where she’d left off.

When his toast was ready, he picked a chair beside Lily, messing up her hair with a free hand as he did. Luckily it was all still bedhead, since she clearly hadn’t been up for long. She grinned up at him.

“So you’re coming with us?” She asked hopefully.

Harry nodded. “I am. Couldn’t miss your first day of second year, could I?”

“What was your second year like, dad?”

For a moment, Harry looked around, as if worried Albus was somewhere he could overhear. He knew Albus hated hearing about what he did at school, no matter what it was. But Albus was nowhere near him today, and was likely going to ignore him until he got on the Hogwarts Express so, with a look at Ginny, Harry decided to indulge in Lily’s request.

“Well, did I ever tell you about the time your mum sent me a Valentine’s Day present?”

Ginny dropped the newspaper. “No, you don’t, Harry Potter. No, you absolutely _do not.”_

Her irritation only spurred Lily on. Her eyes lit up. “What happened?”

“She sent me a singing dwarf.”

Lily gasped. “What did it sing?”

“I wish I could tell you, but it was so long ago that I can’t remember all of it. I do remember my eyes being compared to a toad, though. Romantic, huh?” Harry grinned.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Merlin’s Beard, Harry. If you’re going to tell this story to our daughter, you may as well give her the whole sing. And Lily, don’t get _any_ ideas regarding next Valentine’s Day, will you?”

Then, surprising not only Lily but Harry, too, she proceeded to recite the _entire_ song she’d sent Harry more than twenty years ago.

“ _His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

_His hair is as dark as a blackboard._

_I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,_

_The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”_

Lily applauded wholeheartedly, her smile taking over her entire face. “You really sent that to dad? What did he do? Oh, was that how you both fell in love?” Her eyes were wide with her enjoyment of the song and the story.

Ginny shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Lils,” she admitted. “He laughed, actually. I was very embarrassed that I sent it. I spent so much time wishing that I hadn’t. I was pretty sure that I ruined my chances of ever getting him to like me.”

“You _laughed!?_ ” Lily shot daggers at her father.

“Okay, in my defense, I was also very embarrassed!”

“But mum was trying to be romantic!”

“Yes, and I was _twelve!_ ”

* * *

Albus huffed and lay back on James’ bed, head hitting the pillow with a small _thump._ “I don’t want to go to school this year. Can you loan me your invisibility cloak so I can hide here in your room all year? Give Scorpius my regrets. Tell McGonagall I’m dead.”

James, who was sitting across the room on the floor in front of his mirror and coming his bright pink hair (thanks to Ron’s gift, which he very much loved), chuckled a little. “Yeah, not happening. You’ve gotta face it. And Scorpius will miss you too much if you don’t show up. Not to mention you’ll probably have the Ministry after you because they’ll think you’re missing. And McGonagall believes nothing I say, so that won’t even work as a cover story.”

He raised his hands to cover his face and let out a long and tortured sigh. School did _not_ sound appealing right now, not when the words his father had said to him only hours ago were still ricocheting around his mind. They had been all night.

He’d pushed him. Albus had pushed him. He’d said that he wished Harry wasn’t his father, and he’d meant it. Which meant his dad’s reply had to have been meant, too.

_There are times I wish you weren’t my son!_

_Jokes on you, dad,_ Albus thought. _I wish I wasn’t your son too._

School, at least, wouldn’t be too bad considering the fact that he’d be far away from his dad, where he wouldn’t have to talk to him or see him or even think about him.

But then there was the woman he’d met last night. Delphi, who had come with Amos Diggory, who had been talking with his father rather aggressively. Albus hadn’t thought too much of it at the time, but now that he was thinking about it, Amos’ words made a lot of sense. Delphi’s had, too. She was the only person other than Scorpius that Albus had ever met that seemed to truly understand him, and they’d only known each other for a matter of minutes. Intriguing as she was, Albus was a little ashamed at the fact that he hadn’t thought of her too much until now. He’d been rather preoccupied, he figured. She had invited him to come and visit where she worked, though. Perhaps in another life he would have snuck off last night instead of hiding away. Would have followed her, hidden out at St. Oswalds. The idea was rather appealing to him, he had to admit.

He pulled himself to sit up and look at James. His hair had been styled into a quiff, all pink and pointing up towards the ceiling, but looking better than anything Albus could ever attempt to do with his own mop of hair. It made him feel better to know that by the time they got to Hogwarts, James’ hair would be a mess because he’d likely nap on the train, and his friends would jokingly mess it up, too.

“How long till we have to go?”

James checked his watch. “A few minutes.” He finished fixing his hair and turned to look at Albus. “Are you ready? To face dad, I mean?”

He hadn’t been awake when Albus and James had gone down for breakfast. Ginny had made them some toast and gently explained that she’d only go and wake up Harry when Albus was out of the kitchen, which Albus was grateful for. She had to have heard their argument last night, though Albus didn’t want to talk to her about it. He’d barely even spoken much to James about it, even though they’d been up until the middle of the night in James’ bedroom. Albus hadn’t been able to sleep, and James had stayed up with him in solidarity.

Would he even speak to Scorpius about it? He doubted it. Why not bottle it up until it ate at him from the inside out? Until he was nothing but a shell of the Albus everyone had once known? Seemed like a good plan to him.

Albus didn’t have to think of his answer. “No. I just want to get to King’s Cross, get on the train, see Scorpius and forget about all of this. I don’t want to talk to him, see him… none of it.”

“Okay, then,” James nodded. “Mission: keep you away from dad has begun.” He stood up from the floor and stepped towards his trunk, leaning up against his desk. “You want me to come back up and take your trunk down for you? Or you want to come with me?”

“I’ll come.” Albus stood up and grabbed his trunk, which James had retrieved from his room last night. Albus hadn’t been able to face going back in there. “Make sure dad doesn’t touch my stuff. He’s probably loading the car like he always does. Knowing him, he’ll try and slip a note in my trunk or something.”

James nodded again and then led the way out of the room. Albus hoped that his father wouldn’t try to speak to him when they got downstairs and that he _was_ busy packing up the car. Albus had nothing at all to say to him.

* * *

Harry was mid-way through putting Lily’s trunk in the car – without magic, so as not to be suspicious to the Muggle neighbours – when he heard chatter inside the house. He finished pushing Lily’s trunk in and turned around, spotting a flash of pink hair through the open front door. His heart stopped.

James and Albus had finally come downstairs.

He turned and pushed Lily’s trunk a little further into the car to try and delay his inevitable re-entrance to the house. He knew that the second he stepped foot in there where Albus was, the house would feel awkward, and he also knew that nothing he could say this morning would fix that. Like Ginny said, they both needed time.

When Harry walked back into the house and saw Albus again, a thousand words he wanted to say came to mind. _I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Can we talk about it? I love you._ He said none of them. Instead, he stopped in front of the door to the kitchen and looked inside. Albus was in there, drinking a glass of water, and Lily had pulled herself up to sit on the kitchen bench next to him. He saw Ginny start to tell her off for sitting on the bench just as James appeared beside him, having just bounded downstairs. His Gryffindor robes were thrown over one shoulder, having apparently nearly forgotten them upstairs in his room.

“Morning,” was all he said to his father.

Harry didn’t mind. He supposed that if Albus saw James being _too_ friendly with him, he’d think that the family was ganging up on him, and that was the last thing Harry wanted Albus to feel. He turned and pointed at James’ trunk.

“Are you taking that to the car, or am I?”

“If you take mine, I’ll carry Albus’.”

He nodded and moved to pick up James’ trunk. James followed him out of the house to the car and sat Albus’ trunk down on the driveway to help his father push his trunk into the car properly.

“He’ll be okay,” James said quietly. “But he’s upset.”

“I know.” Harry responded with a slight sigh. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

“Always.”

James reached down to grab Albus’ trunk, and this time refused any help from Harry in getting it into the car. He figured that was probably a request of Albus’ – that his father not help in any way, shape or form in getting his things into the car. Harry could understand, but it hurt nonetheless.

The two walked inside together but James quickly entered the kitchen and got as far away from Harry as he could. He ended up leant against one of the cabinets next to Albus, who had finished his water. Lily had been forced off of the bench and was now sat at the dining table again, eyes back on her book.

Ginny looked over as she saw Harry lean against the doorframe.

 _You okay?_ She mouthed.

Harry nodded.

“Right, then,” Ginny smiled at Harry quickly and then looked around at the children. “Let’s get going. One last sweep of the rooms to make sure you’ve got all your stuff and then we’re off.” She tapped Lily on the shoulder and held out a hand for the book. “You can have it back once we’re in the car, Lils.”

James, Albus and Lily all left the kitchen and disappeared upstairs for the last check. Ginny walked over to Harry and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“This never gets any easier, does it?”

He shook his head. “Never.”

“I thought that I’d get used to it, sending them all off to school on September 1st. But I haven’t. I don’t think I ever will.”

Harry smiled down at her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You wanna head out to the car and get it started? I’ll lock up when the kids come down. No crying _until_ we get to King’s Cross, eh?”

She grinned up at him. “Try telling _yourself_ that.”

He knew what she was talking about. When James had gone off to Hogwarts for the first time, when he’d gotten up much earlier than necessary, had his trunk settled in the car before he’d even eaten breakfast and spent the whole morning asking if Albus and Lily could come with him. Harry had ended up crying about his first son going off to Hogwarts alone while he brushed his teeth, feeling reminiscent of his own first day at Hogwarts. But he’d had Ron, then, and he had to learn to trust that James – happy, playful, boisterous James – would be fast friends with someone.

Harry waited by the front door until the three children came downstairs. Lily came first, hopping down the stairs two at a time. He raised his hand for a high-five, which she gave him, as she skipped towards the front door and out to the car. Then Albus and James came down together.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, then, but when Albus came towards him – the closest he’d been to his son all day – he longed to say something, anything. He stepped away from the door, towards Albus.

“Albus…” Harry started.

James acted quickly, stepping in-between his brother and father. Albus ducked out behind him, disappearing outside. “Dad.” The look in his eyes told Harry everything he needed to know.That any words from Harry would hurt and hinder him. Harry knew that himself. He hated that it had to be his son that told him.

Harry cleared his throat. “Got everything, then?”

“Yep, all set,” James replied with a small smile and stepped outside.

He sincerely hoped that the car journey to King’s Cross would be less awkward than the entire morning had been so far. His hopes, however, weren’t particularly high.

* * *

As soon as Albus set foot on the Hogwarts Express he embarked on a mission to find Scorpius. He was the only person who could make him feel any better, and though he’d clung very closely to James for the past few hours, he didn’t intend to crowd James when Scorpius would likely be looking for him anyway.

Rose, it seemed had a different idea.

“Albus, I’ve been looking for you,” she exclaimed, appearing out of nowhere.

“Me? Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Albus, it’s the start of the fourth year and so, the start of a new year for us. I want to be friends… again!” A grin made its way onto her face, but Albus had known her long enough to know a fake smile when he saw one.

He shook his head. “We never were friends.”

“That’s harsh. You were my best friend when I was six.”

“That was a _long_ time ago.” He made to move past her, the eagerness to see Scorpius now entirely taking over him, only to have Rose grab him and pull him into the nearest empty compartment. He groaned in displeasure and crossed his arms.

Rose looked around, as if to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “Have you heard the rumours? Big Ministry raid a few days ago. Your dad apparently was incredibly brave.”

“How do you always know about these things and I don’t?” The comment about his father had gone in one ear and out the other. He didn’t care how brave his father was. He didn’t care about any good his father had done or would do.

Rose ignored him. “Apparently he – the wizard they raided – Theodore Nott, I think – had all sorts of artifacts that broke all sorts of laws including – and this has got them _all gooey_ – an illegal Time-Turner. And quite a superior one at that. It could take you back years!”

Something clicked in Albus’ mind.

“A Time-Turner? Dad did find a Time-Turner…”

“Yes, I know. Great, right?”

“You’re sure.”

“Entirely.”

Ideas suddenly sprouted in Albus’ mind. Amos Diggory, talking about Cedric. His father’s denial. The Time-Turner. Delphi’s offer… _Delphi_. “Now I have to find Scorpius.” He pushed past Rose, left the compartment and walked down the length of the train, eyes on the lookout for Scorpius’ white-blond hair and happy face.

Rose followed him out, hurrying after him. “Albus!”

He spun around. “Who’s told you that you have to talk to me?” His words came out a little more abrasively than he’d intended them to, but he had no intentions of apologising either. Not even when Rose’s expression changed.

“Okay,” she started. “Maybe your mum owled my dad – but only because she’s worried about you. And I just think – ”

“Leave me alone, Rose.” Albus moved away again.

Moments later, he came across their usual compartment and smiled at the sight of Scorpius sat inside, quite literally twiddling his thumbs. He slid the compartment door open and headed inside.

Scorpius greeted him with a large smile. “Albus!” Then, he looked back at Rose. His smile dropped ever so slightly. “Oh hello, Rose, _mmmm_ , what do you smell of?”

Albus paused.

“What do I _smell_ of?” Rose furrowed her eyebrows.

“No, no, I meant it as a nice thing, you smell like a mixture of fresh flowers and fresh – bread! Mmmm.” Dread filled Scorpius’ face. He knew he’d made a mistake the second he uttered the words. No, the second he _thought_ the words.

Rose ignored him and turned to Albus, even though Albus was no longer listening at all. “Albus, I’m here, okay? If you need me.”

“I mean, nice bread, good bread, bread… what’s wrong with bread?”

“Bread!?” Rose huffed, then shook her head and left, clearly giving up on her failed attempts to talk to Albus and not wanting to hear the word _bread_ ever again.

Albus moved to sit next to Scorpius, glad that Rose was gone so that he could finally speak to his friend again. It had been too long. Too much had happened since he last saw Scorpius and seeing him again made him happier than he’d felt in weeks.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he began.

“And now you’ve found me. Ta-da! I was hardly hiding,” Scorpius shrugged. “You know how I like to get on early. Stops people staring. Shouting. Writing ‘son of Voldemort’ on my trunk. That one never gets old.” He paused, looked out the door. His face dropped a little. “She really doesn’t like me, does she?”

Albus impulsively moved forward and wrapped his arms around Scorpius. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but he wanted to do it. He and Scorpius had never hugged before, but there was a first time for everything, right?

Scorpius blinked, surprised, yet smiled. “Okay. Hello. Um. Have we hugged before? Do we hug?”

“Just a slightly weird twenty-four hours,” Albus admitted, not wanting to dwell on the fact. On his father’s words. On Amos Diggory’s. On Delphi. On the Time-Turner.

“What’s happened in them?”

“I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get off this train.”

As if on cue, the train rumbled to life and started to chug out of King’s Cross Station. Both boys were thrown a little off balance as the train began to move. Albus briefly envisioned his parents on the platform, waving them off, totally unaware of what Albus was about to do.

Where the thought had come from, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to do it. He had to do some good in the world, to do something useful. And while it _might_ be dangerous, once Albus set his mind to something, there was little anyone could do to deter him.

“Too late. The train is moving. Hogwarts ahoy!”

Albus wasn’t deterred yet. “Then we need to get off a moving train.”

From the corridor, the Trolley Witch appeared. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Both boys ignored her. Albus stood from his seat and walked over to the window of the train and pulled it open. It wasn’t a particularly large window, but it was certainly large enough for Albus and Scorpius to fit through.

Scorpius watched Albus, worried. “A moving _magical_ train.”

“ _Pumpkin Pasty? Cauldron Cake?”_

Albus didn’t move away from the window.

“Albus Severus Potter, get that strange look out of your eye.” He stood up and crossed to stand beside Albus, hoping he could talk Albus out of whatever thoughts he was having right now. Getting out of the train? The _moving_ train? Why? How? Albus made no sense. He hadn’t seen Albus in weeks, and this was how Albus greeted him? With a quick _Hello, nice to see you, now let’s JUMP OFF OF A TRAIN._

Albus moved away from the window for only a second until he could stand and face Scorpius. There was something like amusement and also slight fear in his eyes as he spoke. “First question. What do you know about the Triwizard Tournament?”

Scorpius was doomed.

“Oooh, a quiz! Wizzo. Three schools pick three champions to compete in three tasks for one Cup. What’s that got to do with anything?” He answered swiftly.

Albus’ lips twitched into a smile. “You really are an enormous geek, do you know that?”

“I thank you.”

“Second question. Why has the Triwizard Tournament not been run in over twenty years?” Albus was feeling hopeful now. Scorpius knew about the tournament, and Scorpius was his best friend. They’d follow each other anywhere. Right? He had to believe that was true.

“The last competition included your dad and a boy called Cedric Diggory – they decided to win together but the Cup was a Portkey – and they were transported to Voldemort.” Scorpius’ excitement dropped a little. “Cedric was killed. They cancelled the competition immediately after.”

“Good. Third question: Did Cedric need to be killed?” This time, Albus jumped in before Scorpius could, though he noted how Scorpius’ eyebrows knotted together in confusion at this question compared to the others. “Easy question, easy answer: _No_. The words Voldemort said were ‘Kill the spare.’ The _spare._ He died only because he was with my father and my father didn’t save him – well, we can. A mistake has been made and we’re going to right it. We’re going to use a Time-Turner. We are going to bring him back.”

Scorpius hesitated. Had Albus gone mad?” “Albus, for obvious reasons, I’m not a massive fan of Time-Turners…” Albus knew that, too.

“When Amos Diggory asked my father for the Time-Turner, he denied they even existed. He lied to an old man who just wanted his son back – who just loved his son. And he did it because he didn’t care – because he doesn’t care.” His father’s words flashed through his mind. _There are times I wish you weren’t my son!_ “Everyone talks about all the brave things Dad did. But he made some mistakes too. Some big mistakes, in fact. I want us to set one of those mistakes right. I want us to save Cedric.”

Too many people had died for his father’s sake, and Albus didn’t even know why. His father wasn’t a great man. He was the least great man Albus knew. So bringing back Cedric like this? It would right one of his mistakes. It would right at least _something_ in this terrible mistake of a world that Albus had fallen into.

Albus made for the window again and looked out of it.

Scorpius stared after him. “Okay, whatever was holding your brain together seems to have snapped,” Scorpius spoke, more than confused now. Albus truly _wasn’t_ making any sense. Saving Cedric Diggory? A Time-Turner? Where was Albus even intending on _getting_ a Time-Turner? Was there _any_ logic in this plan? If there was, Scorpius couldn’t see any. And if Scorpius couldn’t see any, he wasn’t sure if Albus could either.

He looked back at Scorpius, and Scorpius was surprised to see a look in Albus’ eyes that he’d never seen before. It was determination mixed with something else that Scorpius couldn’t quite put a finger on. Whatever Albus was thinking, there was clearly no stopping it.

“I’m going to do this, Scorpius. I need to do this.” He met Scorpius’ eyes and gave him a small smile. “And you know as well as I do, I’ll entirely mess it up if you don’t come with me. Come on.”

Scorpius hesitated, then moved towards the window. Albus stepped back to let him go forward, only to have Scorpius turn around and shake his head at his friend. There was _no way_ they were doing this. Albus, however, was certain. This was the right thing to do. And so he pushed past Scorpius, headed for the window and pulled himself outside of it and up onto the roof of the Hogwarts Express.

* * *

The Extraordinary General Meeting was over, and both Harry and Hermione felt exhausted even though the day was barely half over. They’d only been at The Ministry of Magic for two hours after dropping off their children at King’s Cross.

Harry was both worried about Albus, but also tired of how so many people kept doubting Hermione, when she was clearly more than capable. She was the best person to be Minister for Magic, and yet wizards and witches doubted her nearly constantly. He sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingers as Hermione entered his office.

“I always have high hopes for those meetings,” Hermione started, “and they’re always thwarted within minutes. I love my job – I do. But…” She hesitated, and then sat down in the chair opposite Harry’s desk. “I know what Draco Malfoy has gone through, but does he _ever_ just… be quiet?”

Harry laughed breathily. “I really thought Ron was going to start a fight, there.”

“Wouldn’t have surprised me if he had. Perhaps it would have made it more entertaining.” She paused. “That sounds utterly terrible coming from me. I’m glad I can count on you to know nothing I say in this room will ever be repeated.”

He made a cross over his heart with a finger. “Cross my heart, hope not to die.”

Harry admired Hermione thoroughly, especially in moments like this. She was always so strong and so confident, and Harry felt like he was always on the edge of breaking point. He was certainly glad that Hermione was Minister for Magic and not him. If he was… he nearly laughed at the thought. It would never end well.

“How are you, Harry?” Hermione asked, then, a little sheepishly.

He frowned a little. “I’m… fine?”

“Ginny mentioned that you and Albus had a fight. She didn’t say anything more than that, and I’m not asking what was said. I’m not trying to pry. That’s your business. But as your friend, _not_ as your boss, as your _friend_ of many years, I just want to ask if you’re okay. If Albus is okay.” Hermione said, voice soft and caring.

Harry shrugged a shoulder. He wasn’t mad that Ginny had mentioned it to Hermione. The two were good friends, anyway, and their friendship called for more honesty than the usual friendship. Harry had always been honest with them, and he planned to continue in doing that for as long as he could.

“It was a mistake on my part, the fight. I said some things I shouldn’t have, and Albus said some things he might regret, too. But now, knowing he’s gone off to Hogwarts for another year, thinking about how he didn’t even say goodbye to me… it makes me wonder a little, whether I would have been like this with my father.”

“What do you mean?”

“If my parents hadn’t died, if I’d just been raised a normal wizard, a normal child… would I have acted out against my parents like Albus is with me? Is that what it is? Is it just part of this stage of his life, or did Gin and I go wrong somewhere? Some fatal flaw, something we missed. Something that means Albus is just a ticking time-bomb… ready to explode at the slightest nudge of pressure? I acted out when I was his age, but I didn’t have parents to act out _to._ That’s the thing. Is it me? Is it just because I am who I am? Or is it because of me that Albus is who _he_ is?”

Hermione looked at him in a way he hadn’t seen her look at him for years. Since they were teenagers, fighting for their lives. Since Harry had had to make life changing decisions before he was even eighteen years old.

“I wish I could give you some deep and philosophical answer,” Hermione admitted. “I really do, Harry. But whatever this is… whatever it is with Albus, I trust that you will both figure it out on your own terms. I never acted out to my parents. Rose, at least _yet_ hasn’t acted out either. Hugo had tantrums when he was younger. Rose can be snappy at times. But for the most part, they’re fine. Maybe, in part, it is to do with Albus’ age, but maybe it’s to do with who he is too.”

Harry let her words settle for a moment. “I’m glad we’ve agreed that words spoken in this office will never be spoken about outside of it, because my mind is already whirring enough thinking about all of this right now.”

She laughed just as a knock sounded on the door and it peeked open. Ginny stood on the other side, smiling a little as she looked between the two of them, smiles on both of their faces. It made a nice change after the catastrophe of a meeting.

“Don’t mind me,” Ginny said. “I’ve got to get to the Prophet. We’ve got an emergency meeting about next year’s Quidditch World Cup, apparently. But before I do – I was talking to Ron just now and I’m inviting you and Ron over for dinner tonight, Hermione. Now that the kids are out, I thought it might be a good time for a catch up. That all right with you?”

Hermione’s smile grew. “That sounds wonderful, Ginny. Thank you.”

Ginny smiled in reply, then gave Harry a quick wave before disappearing again.

“Oh, great,” Harry slumped in his chair a little. “Now I have to think of something to cook.”

* * *

St. Oswald’s Home for Old Witches and Wizards was _not_ at all what Albus was expecting it to be. It was chaos in its purest form. It was definitely full of magic, that was for sure. And after witnessing several of the Old Witches and Wizards essentially attempting to light one of the caretakers on fire through the form of his teacup, Albus really wasn’t unsure what he and Scorpius had walked into.

Nevertheless, the two boys shouted “ _Excuse me!”_ at the top of their lungs, and the room went momentarily quiet, leaving them both staring around at the old witches and wizards, who were gawking at them as if they were new toys.

“Y _eeeeee_ s?” An older witch spoke.

“We’re looking for Amos Diggory,” Albus said, sounding more confident than he was.

“What you boys want with that miserable old sod?” A woman asked.

Then, Albus watched, eyes wide, as the woman’s legs seemed to rise up, up, _up,_ until they rested each side of her head. He was dumbfounded completely until he heard the familiar voice of the night before and turned to see Delphi, wand in hand, looking at him. Her silver and blue hair looked vibrant in the bright light of the room.

“Albus? Albus, you came! What a surprise. Come and say hello to Amos!”

The excitement in her voice was enough for Albus to know that he’d made the right choice. The only other person who ever sounded that excited to see him was Scorpius. Happily, he (dragging Scorpius along a little, considering how anxious Scorpius was about the whole _skipping school, running away, jumping off the train and OH! The creepy, magical Trolley Witch_ thing) followed Delphi towards Amos’ room. This was a good choice. He would show his father that he was a better person than he thought he was. He would _be_ better. He would fix Harry’s mistakes, and he would do it without question.

* * *

“I’ve told Draco again and again – no one in the Ministry is saying anything about Scorpius. The rumours aren’t coming from us,” Hermione said, leaning back a little in her chair.

Dinner had gone well. Ginny had stepped in after getting home from work and helped him cook, since she both wanted to help and didn’t want Harry to be alone.With Albus weighing on his mind, and then all the discussion at the Ministry, his thoughts hadn’t gone quiet all afternoon. And after all these years, Harry still found the house too quiet after the kids had gone back to school. That quiet meant his mind could be louder, and Ginny knew it. Having Ron and Hermione in the house tonight filled at least _some_ of the void that the children left.

“I wrote to him – after he lost Astoria – to ask if there was anything we could do,” Ginny admitted. Somehow, they’d gotten onto the topic of Draco rather quickly after finishing the meal. “I thought maybe – as he was such a good friend to Albus – maybe Scorpius might like to stay over part of the summer break or… My owl came back with a letter containing one simple sentence: ‘Tell your husband to refute these allegations about my son once and for all.’”

Hermione shook her head. “He’s obsessed.”

“He’s a mess – a grieving mess.” Ginny couldn’t blame him.

“And I’m sorry for his loss,” Ron started, voice strong, ignoring the food for the first time that evening, “but when he accuses Hermione of–” His eyes fell on Harry, sat across the table beside Hermione, slumped a little in his seat, staring down at his hands. “Oi, droopy drawers. Like I say to her all the time, it could be nothing.”

“Ron!”

Ron continued despite Hermione’s exclamation and the look she gave him. “The trolls could be going to a party, the giants to a wedding, you could be getting bad dreams because you’re worried about Albus, and your scar could be hurting because you’re getting old.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Getting old? Thanks, mate.”

“Honestly, every time I sit down now I make an ‘ooof’ noise. An ‘ooof.’ And my _feet_ – the trouble I’m having with my feet – I could write songs about the pain my feet are giving me.” He kicked his feet up on Ginny’s legs. She pushed them off half a second later. “Maybe your scar is like that.”

Ever the joker, Ron knew how to brighten a dim moment. Harry appreciated it. With all of the dark conversations they’d had today, with the events of last night replaying over and over and _over,_ a little bit of Ron’s humour was just what Harry needed. He also particularly enjoyed Hermione and Ginny’s attempts to stop it.

“You talk a lot of rubbish,” Ginny sighed, though slightly amused.

“I consider it my speciality. That and my range of Skiving Snackboxes. And my love for all of you. Even Skinny Ginny.”

Harry winced a little. _That_ was the point where Ginny snapped. He knew it the second the words came out of Ron’s mouth, and by the look on Ron’s face, he knew it too.

“If you don’t behave, Ronald Weasley, I will tell mum!”

“You wouldn’t.” Ron narrowed his eyes.

Hermione, desperate to get back onto the _actual_ topic of conversation, prior to her husband’s interruption, continued. “If some part of Voldemort has survived, in whatever form, we need to be prepared. And I’m scared.” She spoke quickly, as if wanting to get the words out before another interruption, but also as if she was afraid of admitting such a thing. Hermione Granger, Minister for Magic… scared.

“I’m scared too,” Ginny added gently.

“Nothing scares me. Apart from mum,” Ron added nonchalantly.

Hermione ignored him. “I mean it, Harry, I will not be Cornelius Fudge on this one. I will not stick my head in the sand. And I don’t care how unpopular that makes me with Draco Malfoy.”

Ron, playing with fire, replied with a swift: “You never really were one for popularity, were you?”

She lunged at him across the table with an arm. Ron stood up, jumping out of the way just in time, a cheeky smile making its way onto his face as her arm missed him.

“Missed!”

Ginny then acted without really thinking, swinging her own arm out and hitting him directly in the stomach. Harry supposed it was a talent from her childhood and was both amused by her and feeling very much like a child at heart again.

Ron winced. “Hit. A very solid hit.”

She leant over and rubbed his tummy gently. He huffed and sat back down.

Harry heard the sound of an owl before he saw it. He stood up and grabbed the letter just as the owl flew overhead and disappeared out of the open dining room window.

“Bit late for an owl, isn’t it?” Hermione asked.

Worry settled in Harry’s stomach. “It’s from Professor McGonagall.”

“What does it say?” Ginny sat up a little straighter.

Harry’s eyes scanned the letter and he felt all of the joy that the night had brought him sink out of him instantly. He looked up at his wife. Words he’d never thought he’d say, words he wished he didn’t _have_ to say. “Ginny, it’s Albus – Albus and Scorpius – they never made it to school. They’re missing.”


End file.
